Karen Whiddon: The Lost Wolf's Destiny

“Really?” Ginger cocked her head. “That’s hardly fair to her, is it? Look how sleepy that poor baby is.”

“Hailey,” Blythe said, pushing back mild panic and hating the way she felt out of control. “Her name is Hailey.”

Ginger acknowledged the introduction with a shy dip of her chin. “Of course. And I do think it’d be best if we let her rest. Just one moment. I’ll have someone else come and take you to Jacob.”

She removed a walkie-talkie from her belt and spoke a few words into it. “There we are. Savannah will be here shortly.”

Struggling not to let exhaustion claim her, which was no doubt why she’d overreacted, Blythe nodded. “Have you been here long?” she asked.

Immediately, Ginger’s friendly smile vanished. “Excuse me a second,” she said, ducking out into the hallway without answering.

Surprised, Blythe didn’t move. Was there some rule about asking personal questions? That would not only be weird, but more cultlike than she cared for. When this Savannah person arrived, she’d ask her the same thing and see if she got a similar reaction.

A moment later Ginger returned, accompanied by a short, older woman with long, frizzy hair that looked as if she hadn’t combed it in days. She wore no makeup on her lined face and no jewelry. With her stooped shoulders and listless movements, she looked every bit as weary as Blythe felt.

Her faded blue gaze skittered over Blythe as she entered the room. “Come with me, please.”

For a split second, Blythe considered refusing to go. Instead, she swallowed back her questions. She’d committed to this. She trusted Jacob Gideon and, by default, his people. She’d need to learn to deal with her misgivings.

After a final glance at Hailey, she turned to follow the older woman. Ginger stopped her. “Wait just a second.”

She held out some papers on a clipboard. “I need you to sign here, please. This simply states that I’ve delivered you to your room.”

Enough was enough. Who needed to have a room delivery signed? “I don’t make a habit of signing papers without reading them,” Blythe said. “Leave them and I’ll sign them later, after I’ve had time to go over them.”

Ginger’s crestfallen expression didn’t change Blythe’s mind.

“I’m sorry.” Squinting tiredly at her, Blythe accepted the clipboard and tossed it on the bed. “I promise I’ll look at it when I get back.”

“Very well.” Ginger smiled softly. “I’ll wait here and watch over your child. We can go over the paperwork together when you return. I do need to have it signed before I go back to my regular duties.”

Again Blythe found this weird. But then again, what did she know? She’d never been inside a religious compound before.

Once she was out in the hall, Savannah grunted. “Follow me, please,” she said. Trudging along a few steps ahead, she picked up her pace each time Blythe hurried to catch up.

Exhaustion forgotten, Blythe grabbed her arm. “Wait up.”

The other woman rounded on her, her expression panicked. “Don’t touch me,” she yelped, jerking her arm away. Then, shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she took off again.

Stopping short, heart pounding in her chest, Blythe stared at Savannah’s retreating back. Enough was enough. These people were definitely strange, bordering on scary. No way was she going anywhere without Hailey.

She turned, intending to head back to her room.

She’d barely taken a few steps when Savannah came rushing back. “I’m sorry. Please accept my apology,” she said, the words running together without any real trace of contrition. “I’m new here and I’ve had a rough time before all this. I really don’t want to blow it.”

That explained a lot. Still wary, though no longer verging on the edge of panic, Blythe nodded. “Apology accepted. Lead the way.” Following Savannah again, this time she knew better than to speak.

Finally, they reached the end of a long hallway and stopped in front of the last room. Double doors where the others were all single, these were made of some dark wood like mahogany or cherry. No mere knob here, but an elaborate pewter handle, which made for an overall effect of understated luxury. More like a corporate CEO than a preacher, but then what did she know? Most churches, especially the mega ones like Sanctuary, were run like profitable businesses.

“Knock twice and go in when he says to,” Savannah said, her voice once again devoid of inflection. She moved away, heading back up the hall with her head and neck forward, her motions reminiscent of a plow horse struggling against the harness.

Still unsettled, Blythe watched her until she disappeared around a corner. Then, turning and facing the door, she lifted her fist and knocked.

“Come in.”

At his invitation, she turned the handle, wondering at her sudden urge to see him again. He was so kind, so warm and reassuring. Stepping into the room on carpet so plush her feet appeared to sink into quicksand, she moved toward where Jacob waited for her behind a massive cherrywood desk.

“You wanted to see me?” Though she hated the feeling of being summoned before the lord of the manor, she kept her tone and her expression pleasant. After all, this man only wanted to help her precious child.

He stood, indicating two overstuffed chairs near a fireplace. “Please, take a seat.”

Once she had, again feeling suffocated by the eerie feeling of sinking into the upholstery, he went to a coffee machine on a side table, one of those fancy ones that made single servings. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “I have decaf and regular, as well as several varieties of tea.”

“Decaf, please.” While he busied himself making their coffees, she studied the room. It was beautifully—and from the looks of it, professionally—decorated, but devoid of personality. Much like a hotel room, the furnishings and artwork gave no hint whatsoever of Jacob’s character.

When he returned with their coffees on a round silver tray, along with various kinds of sweetener packets, he placed them on a table in front of them and took a seat in the other chair. He appeared the benevolent older gentleman, concerned about her well-being.

She accepted her drink, after adding a bit of sugar and stirring. Taking a sip, she glanced up to find him watching her with an intensity that added to her discomfort.

“Jacob, I’m really tired,” she said gently. “And I find Savannah and Ginger a bit odd, to say the least.”

He grimaced, appearing instantly concerned. “Savannah is new to us. Before she came here, she suffered greatly. Please don’t take her behavior personally. She means well.”

Inhaling, Blythe nodded. “She explained that.”

“Now about Ginger?” He leaned forward. “What is your concern with her? I chose her to help you because she genuinely loves children. I thought she’d be a good choice to watch over Hailey when you couldn’t.”

Once again, Jacob was the voice of reason. She relaxed back into the softness of the chair. “I’m guessing there must be something you forgot to tell me in the car?”

One eyebrow winged up. “Not exactly. I wanted to speak with you away from your little girl.”

“Hailey,” she said, wondering why she felt this fierce compulsion to make everyone use her daughter’s name. Humanizing her, possibly. Just in case doing so might make her caregivers try even harder for her. Another bit of paranoid foolishness, she supposed.

“Yes, Hailey.” His mild tone contained a hint of reprimand.

This time, rather than respond, she sipped from her coffee and waited for him to tell her what he wanted.

Instead, he leaned forward and, staring intently at her, asked her if she liked animals. It took every bit of self-control she possessed not to jump up and ask him to please cut to the chase.